


king city

by xxpaynoxx



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Blood, Broken Bones, Drinking & Talking, Driving, Drunken Kissing, M/M, Smoking, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-23 01:55:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7462005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxpaynoxx/pseuds/xxpaynoxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leo's life was simple, for a time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. exordium

**Author's Note:**

> Majid Jordan's music is incredible.

You know, Leo’s life was, at one point, quite simple.

He’d wake up, have a morning smoke on the balcony, get dressed and go to work, come home, have another smoke, and then go to bed. Occasionally, Gerard would come over and try and lure him out with promises of a good time and drinks and pretty women in too-tall heels and overdone makeup, but he would always decline.

Of course, there was one day where everything went wrong, and so Leo agreed.

It had been a bad day from start to finish. He’d lost his lighter somewhere in his bedroom, so he had to skip his morning smoke which threw off his entire groove for the day. His coffee had spilled all over his lap, staining his nicest white button-down, and he’d had to turn around and get an entirely new suit from his house (the only good part about this was that he had left earlier than usual, so he didn’t miss too much from work).

At the end of that day, Leo needed a drink. Actually, several drinks.

So when Gerard showed up at his house, beckoning for him from the downstairs parlor, Leo had answered.

“Fine, Geri, I’ll come, but just this once,” he said, zipping up the front of his leather jacket as he came down the stairs. His jeans fit tight on his legs, the tears giving a teasing look at his leg tattoo, and his white shirt hung tight on his shoulders. Gerard had given him a shocked look before reverting to his thick smirk as he slapped Leo on the back.

“Car’s outside. Are you sure you want to do this?” Gerard asked him, and Leo had shrugged, slipping into the passenger of the sleek red car, looking down at his lap. “It was a bad day today,” he said simply, and he didn’t look to see if Gerard acknowledged his remark. The fact that Gerard didn’t say anything more, instead choosing to start the car, the engine purring as they pull out of the gravel driveway.

Lights flashed past the windows, and Leo slid down in his seat, playing with the zipper on his jacket. He knew Gerard wasn’t going to try anything or make him do anything outlandish because he knows how Leo is in public, but he still didn’t like the look Gerard kept giving him in the mirror.

The club was loud, the lights purple and pink and hurting Leo’s eyes as he nursed a beer at the bar. Gerard was long gone within fifteen minutes of their arrival, absorbed into the crowd of people grinding and dancing in the middle of the light-up floor. Leo could see him from the bar, hands raised in the air as a pretty girl with wavy blonde hair ground up on him.

The song pounding from the speakers was making Leo’s heart shake in his chest, so badly that he didn’t notice the hand that had appeared on his shoulder. He’d jerked up and turned around, about to say something when he’d come face to face with big brown eyes.

Those big brown eyes belonged to a thin tan face with high cheekbones and a pretty white smile, and Leo’s knees felt weak as the person sat down next to him. He was skinny, but there were tattoos on his fingers that gave Leo a clue that there were more hiding underneath his baggy black hoodie. He wasn’t dressed for clubbing or going out at all; he had on tight dark jeans and a pair of old scuffed street shoes, and looked as thrilled to be here as Leo was.

“I’m Neymar,” he said finally, after taking a sip of his dark drink, and Leo detected an accent underlying his broken Spanish, but he couldn’t pinpoint from where. “I’m Leo,” he returned, and Neymar had smiled, gesturing to the door. “Do you want to get out of here?” he whispered in Leo’s ear, and for some reason the slur in his voice had Leo’s heart racing.

Leo had glanced over to the dance floor and somehow had made direct eye contact with Gerard, who sent him a wink and a smile, mouthing _get the fuck out_ before looking back down at the girl grinding into him, looking like she wanted to climb on top of him and ride his dick right there on the dance floor.

Leo grabbed Neymar’s hand and lead him outside, quickly finding the car they’d come in. “Want to go for a drive?” Leo had asked, opening the side door. Neymar had quickly nodded, sliding in without a word.

They’d driven for a while, until the lights of the city had disappeared and all that was left was the light from the moon and the twinkling stars. That’s when Leo stopped, drove far enough from the road so that streetlights didn’t interfere with the moon’s light, and cut the engine.

Leo had gotten out first, climbing up and sitting on the roof of the car, helping Neymar up and pulling out his pack of cigarettes. Neymar had been quiet this entire time, just watching Leo as he deftly opened the package and slipped two out, pocketing the package and then taking out his lighter, offering one to Neymar.

His hands went up in front of him and he smiled apologetically, shaking his head. “I don’t smoke,” he said simply, and Leo shrugged, putting the extra in the pocket of his jacket and bringing the other to his lips, lighting it and slipping the lighter back into his jeans pocket.

They sat like that for a while, making small talk about their jobs (Neymar worked in a Brazilian restaurant down the road from the club, Leo worked in a bank) and their personal lives (when Leo had spoken about his home life, he realized how boring it was compared to Neymar’s, who always had friends over and played video games all night after work), Leo taking drags from his cigarette and Neymar gesturing avidly as he spoke.

Neymar was shy at first, but opened up beautifully, white smile flashing every time Leo asked about his family or his friends. Clearly, he was a socialite, but Leo would never have guessed that from the outfit he’d worn to the club tonight. He was talkative, gesturing about his dreams and aspirations (he’d wanted to be a pro footballer but couldn’t because of a back injury he’d suffered a few years ago).

“Do you ever just, get tired? Tired of your job, tired of living in a routine?”

Leo had blinked, looking over at Neymar in surprise, who was currently nibbling on his bottom lip, suddenly shy again. “Yeah, I guess so,” he said, not giving anything away, but Neymar looked at him pointedly.

“You seem like the guy who’s stuck in a cycle. Wake up, go to work, come home, eat, go to bed, repeat. I feel like that’s what you do every day.”

Leo huffed.

“Maybe I do, but what if I like that? What if I like leading a simple life?”

“Leo, I’ve never met someone like you before in my life, but I can tell you right now, you don’t seem like a simple person.”

Leo flicked his cigarette away from his fingers, watching it land on the sand and burning for a moment before dousing completely.

He had never thought about his life; he loved this city, he loved his life and his friends, he loved himself. But maybe he was living a little too simply. Maybe Neymar was right.

This boy was something else, that was for sure.

When they kissed, Neymar’s mouth tasting like cherries and his nails scrabbling against Leo’s chest, he knew he wouldn't be able to let him go after this. He’d only know him for the better part of three hours, but he knew he couldn’t let this boy go. He’d crawled into Leo’s chest and made a home between his ribs in no time at all, and Leo knew he had to hold onto him.

* * *

Now, Leo’s life isn’t so simple anymore.

Now, he has someone in his bed, sharing the white sheets, letting him color his body in red and purple and letting him fill him to the brim and love him to the core. Now, he has a boy with black ink all over his arms who loves him and his simple life more than Leo could ever love himself.

Now, he wakes up and presses a kiss to Neymar’s lips before going out onto the balcony and smoking a cigarette. Now, he gets dressed and has Neymar tie his tie, his brown eyes furrowed in concentration as he fiddles with the silk fabric. Now, he calls Neymar during breaks and makes sure he’s doing okay at the restaurant and makes sure he gets home safe.

Now, he has Neymar to greet him when he comes home with a kiss and a nice dinner. Now, he has Neymar to return to after his night smoke, has Neymar to love after they’ve broken open a nice bottle of wine. Now, he has someone to make his life a little more complicated.

But when Neymar whines in his ear and pants out how much he loves him, pupils blown wide and voice raspy, nails digging into his shoulder, or when he’s running his thin, soft hands over Leo’s cheek as they lie on their sides after sex, Leo’s heart grows another size.

He doesn't want his life to get any more complicated than this.


	2. medietas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything crashes and burns eventually. Sometimes, all it takes is a big, fat lie and a betrayal to start the fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gerard is an asshole sometimes. Sorry, Piqué lovers.
> 
> Also, sorry about the long update. This is the main part, where all the good and bad shit happens, and the next chapter will be the epilogue.

The party is nice.

Neymar sips his champagne, watching Leo chat with one of his childhood friends that he’d introduced Neymar to a few minutes ago, although Neymar had quite forgotten her name. Something that started with a A? It was quite pretty, and she was very welcoming and told Leo that he was cute. Neymar had blushed and she’d laughed, flicking her brown hair behind her shoulder.

If Neymar hadn’t been gay as fuck, he might have gone for her.

He feels a hand press against his arm and he looks up to meet the brown eyes of Gerard, who looks pretty smashed already, champagne sloshing around in the cup he’s currently waving around in the air.

“Can you come with me for a second?”

Neymar doesn’t get much of a word in edgewise as Gerard drags him outside, the chilled air hitting his face and his uncovered forearms with such a force that Neymar lets out a shiver, feeling the hair stick up on his arms as Gerard tells him to sit down on the stairs leading down the porch.

They sit for a while on the steps, and Gerard finally speaks when the stone’s cold temperature starts to turn his thighs to ice.

“Leo is cheating on you.”

Neymar nearly spits his drink all over his expensive black tuxedo pants.

“W-What? What makes you think that?” he blubbers as he catches his breath, coughing and wincing as Gerard slaps him on the back, harder than was necessary. He looks at Gerard, prays that he’s just joking, but there’s no laughter lines on his face, no crinkles around his eyes.

“It’s Antonella. Can’t you see the way he looks at her?”

Oh, so _that’s_ what her name was.

Neymar narrows his eyes.

“Geri, I _hardly_ think that Leo is the type that would introduce me to the woman he’s apparently cheating on me with,” Neymar says, rolling his eyes and taking a sip of his champagne, feeling it swirl around his mouth and fizz all the way down his chest and into his stomach.

Gerard’s eyes were hard and cold.

“Neymar, don’t be an idiot. What makes you think Leo would love you like _that_ anyway?”

The champagne feels cold suddenly in his chest, the air thickening in seconds. It’s hard to breathe, and Neymar can feel his eyes prickling as he looks at Gerard, who is eyeing him with the most pitying look he has ever seen on anyone’s face before.

“He doesn’t love you. He’s going to love you for a while, sure, but then he’ll get tired of you and he’ll leave you. He doesn’t care about you, and besides, why would he? It’s not like you’re special or anything anyway.”

Every word that slips out of Gerard’s mouth, slurred and stuck together, feels like someone is stabbing Neymar’s chest with every syllable. He looks down at his drink and suddenly feels sick, his eyesight blurring together with tears.

“Shut the fuck up, you don’t know him like I do,” he mumbles, feeling a wave of raw anger flush over him, and Gerard looks at him coldly.

“I was there for him before you were even a thought in his mind. I’ve been by his side forever. Would you like to tell me again that I don’t know my best friend? Would you like to tell me again that you think you know him better than I do, just because you’ve been stuck to his side for three straight months?”

Neymar’s hands are shaking now, and he stands up wearily, wiping the tears that are threatening to fall down his face on his rolled-up shirt sleeve. “If he asks where I’m going, don’t tell him,” he whispers, and he knows that Gerard probably has a triumphant, wolfish smile plastered on his face, knowing he’s won this battle and in turn won the war.

He walks away and he hears Gerard stumble up the steps and into the house, shutting the door behind him.

He throws the glass cup of champagne against the brick wall, hearing it shatter against the wall, and then he turns his back on the house, trying to block out the sounds of laughter and the bass of the music as he passes between the line of cars in front of the house.

* * *

 

Antonella had been doing good; she _looks_ good, positively radiant in the glimmer from the chandeliers hanging above the buffet room. Thiago was growing bigger every day, and he was upstairs watching Disney movies with Carla.

“So, Neymar.”

Leo swallows his swig of champagne and winces as it burned going down his throat before looking at Antonella, trying to play dumb. “What about him?” he asks, and Antonella rolls her eyes, smiling at him and giving him a knowing look.

“He’s very cute, and he seems lovely. I’m afraid I may have scared him off, since he’s disappeared,” she says, a smile on her face, and Leo looks at her incredulously. “You? Scaring _my_ boyfriend away? I hardly think so,” he fires back, nudging Antonella’s arm with his elbow and taking another swig of champagne, Antonella giggling from behind her covered mouth.

Leo looks out at the crowd and, sure enough, Neymar has, in fact, all but disappeared. He isn’t over near the drinks or milling around speaking to anyone, and it’s been nearly thirty minutes since he’d brought him over to meet Antonella, so a bathroom break is ruled out of his head almost immediately. He brushes it off; Neymar had a habit of going off and returning eventually, mainly when the party or social event died down, and he knows Neymar knew he wants to catch up with Antonella alone.

They speak nearly the entire night, joking about old times and discussing Thiago (Leo had been over earlier that week to see him, and Antonella had taken them out to the park near the house), when Leo finally gives a glance at the antique clock hanging on the wall. The clock tells him it’s nearly midnight, and luckily the party begins to die down, a steady stream of guests coming over and bidding Leo and Antonella goodnight. Leo looks around the room and still doesn’t see Neymar, and he’s suddenly worried.

Antonella’s hand on his arm calms his racing heart a bit.

“Leo, he’s probably outside already. Don’t worry, he can’t have gotten lost,” she whispers, and bids Leo goodnight before walking over and beginning to ascend the grand staircase.

Leo says goodnight in return, placing a kiss on her cheek before letting her go, and gives one more sweep of the room.

That’s when he spies Gerard coming back into the house (Leo doesn’t recall even seeing him leave, which set off a red flag right there in his brain), closing the door softly behind him before going to the coat room to grab his things.

He waits until he hears Antonella shut a door upstairs, and then places his glass on the counter before intercepting Gerard at the coat room, intrigued as to what he was doing outside. “Do you know where Neymar is?” Leo asks innocently, pulling his coat off of the hanger agonizingly slow, watching Gerard’s movements. He’s jittery and nervous, and his hands keep messing with something invisible on his coat sleeve.

“No, I think he left.”

The answer is short, slurred, and low, and Leo’s eyes narrow. Neymar wouldn’t just leave. He wouldn’t leave unless he felt uncomfortable, and even then he would let Leo know that he’d meet him at home and Leo would walk him back to the house.

“He _left?_ What makes you think-”

“Leo. He left. As in, he’s _gone_.”

Suddenly, it clicks into place. Neymar didn’t just leave the party; he disappeared, _gone_ like that movie where the woman cuts her hair and frames her husband for murder.

Leo throws Gerard up against the wall in under two seconds, pressing his forearm against his neck, growling. Gerard struggles against his grip, eyes cold and angry, fingers scrabbling against his arm.

“What did you _do_ to him?” he spits in Gerard’s face, but his friend seems unamused, as if he’s watching all of this happen and not caring.

“I told him to fuck off, is what I did. I told him you’re not going to love him forever because you won’t, Leo, I know you. You’re going to leave him when it’s most convenient for you, and he’s going to be hurt like Antonella was.”

Leo can barely see straight from the anger pulsing through his system. He bares his teeth, snarling in Gerard’s face, who looks scared all of a sudden.

“You know for a fucking fact that that is _not_ what happened between Antonella and I, and besides, that is none of your _goddamn_ business.”

Gerard opens his mouth, but Leo cuts him off, already on a roll.

“I _love_ him, Gerard. I fucking love that boy like nobody else before him. I wanted to marry him, I wanted to keep him forever and let him know that I wouldn’t let anyone hurt him. I wanted to love him forever, you _fucker_. If you honestly believed I would let a boy like him go, then you don't know me at _all_.”

He can’t even put words together to explain how much he loves Neymar; it’s not words that he can use, it’s experiences. It’s soft touches in the dead of night, it’s the warmth of hands intertwined on a cold night, it’s panting breaths against sweaty skin, it’s the glimmer of brown eyes lit by countless white stars.

And now, all that is fucked, thanks to Gerard.

“What did you tell him?” he manages to growl out, and Gerard finally stops struggling, his massive hands clamped on Leo’s forearm as if trying to push it off of him.

“I told him you were cheating on him with Antonella.”

The sound of Gerard’s nose breaking underneath Leo’s knuckles, the howl that crawls out of Gerard’s throat is imprinted in Leo’s ears as he lets him slide to the floor, the thud of Gerard’s body hitting the marble is something that Leo will relish forever as he walks out of the house and down the marble steps.

He guns it all the way home, heart racing and hoping and praying to every deity he can think of that he can catch Neymar on the way out.

* * *

 

Neymar waits until every car has disappeared from the driveway, waits until Gerard stumbles out of the gate, cursing loudly while trying to stem the flow of blood down his face (that raises a lot of questions but Neymar, deep down, feels a little cheer in his heart at whoever gathered up the courage to punch him), until there’s almost no sign of life in the yard, the warm lights from the massive windows making the grass on the front lawn glow gold and white.

He climbs out of the bushes (he only stayed because he’s too much of a pussy to walk home in the dark, and besides, he needs answers), creeping along the circular driveway and up the marble steps, knocking twice on the door before intertwining his fingers in front of him, biting his lip. He starts to feel sick when he hears footsteps, unmistakably the soft padding steps of socks on marble, and the door opens to reveal Antonella holding a little boy on her hip in a ratty t-shirt and blue plaid pajama pants.

“Neymar, why are you still here?” she asks, as if looking around for Leo behind him. Neymar doesn’t even want to _think_ about Leo right now, he just needs an answer, and he knows Antonella can give him that.

“I, um, I wanted to ask you a question,” he mumbles, looking down at his hands.

Antonella hesitates before moving aside, handing off the child after giving him a little kiss on his chubby cheek to one of the servants of the house. The boy waves at Neymar as the servant ascends the stairs, and Neymar can’t help but wave back.

Antonella leads him into another room with a large couch, giving him a glass of water before sitting down on the couch, legs pulled up and tucked underneath her as she sips her own drink before placing said drink on the counter with a dull _clink_.

“So,” she begins, and Neymar thanks any god he can think of that she started this conversation because he’s way too damn nervous to try, “what did you want to ask me?”

Neymar swallows hard.

“D-Did you and Leo…were you guys ever…?”

He looks up to meet Antonella’s eyes, which are wide in surprise, not in shock like he was anticipating.

She takes another sip of water before speaking again, and Neymar sinks back against the couch, a little more relaxed after seeing the surprise in Antonella’s eyes.

“To answer your question, yes. One time, yes, Leo and I were together. I thought we were going to be married, have children, live in a house like this, but it wasn’t meant to be. I knew Leo wanted that, but I also knew, as one of his best childhood friends, that he did not want it with me. I was oddly at ease with the decision. Maybe I thought it was just bound to happen, maybe I had seen the signs months before we split.”

The room is quiet as Antonella talks, her voice soft and level, giving nothing away, but Neymar suddenly feels bad. Did he do this? Did he tear them apart?

Antonella’s laugh brings him back to the present, and his gaze jerks towards her as she brushes her hair behind her shoulder.

“No, Neymar, it wasn’t you, don’t worry. It was a long time coming for us.”

He breathes a sigh of relief, Antonella looks at him with an amused smile on her face.

“So, the boy, is he-”

“Yes, he is.”

Then it’s awkward again, both of them sipping their water and silence. Neymar isn’t exactly sure where to take this conversation, especially now since she’s answered his question.

“Neymar.”

His gaze jerks again to Antonella, her brown eyes suddenly clouded in worry as she reaches for his hands, running her soft, small hand over the tattoo on the side of his palm.

“Who told you that Leo was cheating on you?”

Neymar’s throat is suddenly thick again, and it feels like someone has stuffed a massive ball of nerves inside of his throat. He gulps, taking a shaky breath and looking down at his hand.

“Gerard. He told me Leo wouldn’t love me anymore because he isn’t a guy who is committed. He told me I wasn’t special enough for him.”

Neymar doesn’t need to look up to see the level of disgust on Antonella’s face.

“ _Gerard_ told you that? That explains the blood on my lovely floor after the party, then.”

Neymar blinks. “Wait. Someone punched Gerard at the party?” he asks, and Antonella rolls her eyes, a smile appearing on her face again. “After what you just told me, I guarantee Leo confronted him about it and had enough of his bullshit,” she says.

Her small hand suddenly tightens around Neymar’s, forcing him to look her in the eyes.

“He _loves_ you, Neymar. I can see it in the way he looks at you. He used to look at me like that too, a long time ago. Just because we didn’t last forever doesn’t mean you two have to go through the same thing. You two are meant to last, I can _feel_ it. You make him happy, you make him want to go out and meet people and go to social events like this. Three months ago, he would have declined my invitation, but ever since you came into his life, he’s been so much happier. He loves you, so much, more than he’ll ever be able to tell you.”

Antonella’s words feel like water over his soul, washing it and cleaning it and lifting him up, making him feel worthy again. He’s nearly forgotten the words Gerard said to him not a few hours beforehand, and all he can feel is Antonella’s strong, small hand on his and her words, soothing and calm, in his ears.

“Thank you, Anto,” he finally says, drawing her into a hug, pressing his face against her hair. He feels her wrap her arms around his middle, placing a kiss on his cheek.

She walks him to the door, opening it for him, and he walks down the stairs, buttoning his jacket as he goes.

“Neymar!”

He turns around at the call of his name, and sees Antonella standing in the doorway, a soft smile on her face.

“If you hurry, you might be able to catch him. He’ll be looking for you.”

The door closes then with a thud, and Neymar turns around, stopping dead as he processes Antonella’s words.

_He’ll be out looking for you._

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, sprinting down the sidewalk, praying that he makes it before Leo leaves the house.


End file.
